


Buried Sorrows

by BleakDecembersDyingEmber



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Soulless Sam Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-03
Updated: 2019-10-03
Packaged: 2020-11-22 22:40:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 20,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20881844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BleakDecembersDyingEmber/pseuds/BleakDecembersDyingEmber
Summary: Sam is gone.  In the pit. Being tortured by Lucifer and God knows what else.  And you're left behind.  Absolutely lost.





	1. Chapter 1

I sat at the bar; my head propped up in my left hand while I stared at the glass in my right hand. The amber liquid beckoned to me, promising to soothe my tension and cure all of my ails. I raised the glass to my lips, taking a gulp and anticipating the slow burn down my throat and into my chest. I closed my eyes, trying to focus on anything but the reason I was there, but it wasn’t any use.  
***  
We sat in the library in the middle of the bunker. I was pouring over the lore book in front of me, my feet resting in his lap in the chair to my right as he focused on his laptop screen, absentmindedly rubbing my foot.  
“Hmmm,” I muttered, one section of the writing on the page catching my eye.  
“What? You find something?” he asked, hopeful, as he turned to look at me.  
“I thought I did,” I lamented. “But I was wrong. Unless this day-killing werewolf is actually a griffon, I’ve got nothing.” I slammed the book down on the table and began rubbing my temples in frustration.  
Seconds ticked by and then without warning, his fingers that had been massaging my feet were mercilessly tickling them. I shrieked in surprise, trying and failing to free myself from his grasp.  
I wriggled and flailed, my inane laughter taking my breath away until I was scooting out of my chair and falling to the floor. My back hit the ground with a thud, and I felt him relent just long enough to notice that I wasn’t hurt. He slid out of his chair, kneeling beside me as he moved his tickling fingers up to my sensitive waist.  
His fingers sent shocks through me. I couldn’t stop laughing as I grabbed at his hands and thrashed on the ground. He slowly stopped his onslaught and I began to calm my laughter. I opened my eyes to see him looking at me, just inches away from my face. His hand came up and tucked a stray hair back behind my ear.   
“I figured you should use a break.” He spoke softly as I reached up and pushed his own hair out of his eyes. “Sam,” I whispered as he leaned down and connected our lips. His mouth was so sweet, his kiss so tender, and our lips danced as if they’d known the steps for a lifetime.  
He broke away, catching his breath and moving to stand up. He held his hands out to me, which I happily took, and pulled me back up onto my feet, and in close to his chest.  
“That…” he began, a smile creeping onto his face.  
“Happened?” I offered.  
“Finally,” was his response. “The first of many, I hope,” he confessed running his hand through my hair. I returned his smile, leaning up to him and pressing my lips to his.  
***  
I took another swig of whiskey, hoping to turn my brain off. I finished off the glass, signaling the bartender to pour me another double.  
She walked up to my seat, filling my glass. “You can leave the bottle,” I told her, eyeing up the bottle of Johnnie Walker Blue label in her hand. She looked at me, unsure, until I pulled out five one-hundred-dollar bills and slid them towards her. She put the bottle down in front of me, grabbing the bills as I slugged back the glass she had just poured.  
“Just take it slow at least,” she warned. I nodded, placating her as I poured another glass.  
A man sat down in the seat next to me. I could smell his cheap cologne that he seemed to have bathed in from where I sat.  
“Buy you a drink, little lady?” he asked, his voice and demeanor dripping of scum bag. I turned to look at him. He was mid to late forties with freshly dyed black hair, dim brown eyes and an upturned now, and he was wearing a suit and tie.   
“Already bought my own,” I said, bored, as I held up my bottle to him.  
“I like a lady who knows what she wants,” he said, a smarmy tone in his voice.  
I stifled a laugh. “Move it along, pal.” I took another swig.  
“Come on, sweetie. We were just getting to know each other,” he protested.  
“Look, I’m not interested,” I snipped. “At all,” I added, giving him another once over. “Move along.”  
“Suit yourself, your loss,” he feigned disappointment as I watched him stagger up to a pretty young thing across the room.  
I finished off another glass, savoring the flavor as I closed my eyes again, trying to drown everything else out.  
***  
I leaned up against him, the top of my head just barely brushing his shoulder. “You’re too tall. You should shrink,” I said, snorting.  
“You’re drunk,” he retorted.  
“You’re drunk!” I accused him.   
“That’s…” he paused, “a definite possibility.”  
We both laughed, sinking down further into the couch, half holding each other upright.   
“Hey, Sam?” I poked his side.  
“Yeah?” his eyes were drooping, and he was trying hard to keep his focus on me.  
I looked him in the eyes, taking him in and trying my best to keep my composure. “Sam, I’m in love with you.”   
His expression turned from exhaustion to sober surprise, but the edges of his mouth twitched up into a smile. “Well that’s pretty convenient,” he chortled. “Otherwise this me-being-in-love-with-you thing would be completely pointless.” He wrapped his strong arms around me, pulling me on top of him as he laid down on the couch.   
“You’ve never said that before.”  
“Neither have you,” he responded.  
“This calls for a celebration or something,” I said, half joking.  
“Oh, I know!” He bolted up, dragging me with him as he stood abruptly and took my hand. He started heading for the bedrooms. “What Sam?”  
“Celebration sex!” His eyes turned devious as he looked me up and down.  
I laughed at him, knowing that we would both pass out the second our heads hit the bed. “Or a celebratory drink?” I countered.  
“We are both far too drunk for that, madam.”  
“I don’t know what you are talking about, sir. I’m stone cold sober.”   
He narrowed his eyes at me. “Liar,” he declared, eliciting a smile in response. He took the couple of dizzying steps closer to me, pulling my head roughly to his as he kissed me. Hard and passionately. “I love you, Y/N,” he said again, breaking his lips from mine. “I’m never letting you go.”  
I laughed. “Give it time. You’ll get sick of me soon enough,” I teased.  
“Never,” he promised, as he began walking backwards, leading me to the bedroom again.   
***  
The bartender rang the bell behind the counter and began yelling “Last call!” A line of people came up to her, orders flowing from their mouths faster than I could have processed them though she didn’t seem to have any trouble.  
I poured the last of the whiskey into my glass, drinking it down as fast as I could. Sauntering outside, my vision hazy and blurred, I headed for the car. I knew that I was far too drunk to even attempt to drive and I didn’t like the thought of either ending up in the hospital myself or putting someone else there. I climbed into the back seat, stretching out in the bench seat in the back of my 1970 Dodge Challenger. Sam had gotten it from Bobby’s for me and Dean had done all the work and restoration for me. Of course, that was before.   
I pulled out my cell phone, scrolling down my contact list until I saw the name I was looking for, clicked Dial and waited. The line rang for what seemed like forever before an angry, groggy voice answered the phone.  
“This had damn well better be important,” he threatened.  
“Hey,” I slurred, sheepishly. “Can you pick me up? I can’t drive. Or I shouldn’t drive. One of the two. But everything’s blurry.”  
“Damnit, Y/N. Where are you at?”  
“I’m not sure. I was in a bar. And I was having a couple of drinks. And now I’m in the backseat of the Challenger. And I don’t feel right. Nothing feels right since…”  
“I know, sweetheart. I know. Look, leave your phone on. I’ll get your gps and I’ll come get you. Just stay there.”  
I stifled a sob and started getting comfortable. “Thank you, Dean,” I managed to mutter before disconnecting the call, curling up in the backseat, and allowing the tears to fall down.  
At some point, I must have fallen asleep, tucked into the backseat of my car, because when I woke up to someone tapping on my window, I was disoriented and lost.  
“Sam?!” I yelled, unlocking the door, my eyes puffy and red and searing with pain. As I pushed the door open and stumbled out, a hand reached down and helped bring me up to my feet. “Sam?” I asked again, hopeful.  
“Sorry, sweetheart, he isn’t here. You know that, remember?” Dean’s voice said softly, as if he was speaking to an old lady with dementia.  
“Dean…Dean. Right, sorry. I know. I just forgot. Sam’s….well, Sam’s gone,” I muttered, my head pounding as I noticed the sun just beginning to peak out over the horizon. “Where were you?” I asked, patting down my pockets, looking for my cell phone.  
“Just a few hours away taking care of a demon. We can head out back there this afternoon. For now, let’s get you to a hotel. Get some shut eye. Maybe a shower, too. You stink of booze.” His tone was lightening. “Can you drive?”  
I debated it for a moment. I was nowhere near drunk but the pounding in my head made me think it wasn’t a good idea. I opted to ere on the side of caution and walked over to Dean’s Impala, opening the passenger side door and climbing in.  
My window was already rolled down and I hung my head out of it, breathing in the fresh air. “What about your car?” Dean asked me.  
I looked over at it, trying to remember how much I use to love it. Looking at it now, all I could remember was Sam.  
***  
“It’s the one you wanted, right?” he asked me, a touch of doubt in his voice.  
“Sammy, it’s perfect! How did you do this? When?” I was overwhelmed. Nobody had ever done anything even close to this for me.  
“Dean and Bobby did most of it. I just handed them the tools and the beer.”  
“It’s beautiful,” I exclaimed, running my hands over the black glossy panels and taking in the dark purple racing stripe.  
“She’s all yours,” he said holding up a pair of keys.  
“He,” I corrected. He looked at me with a confounded smile. “It’s a he. And his name is Lancelot.”  
Sam walked over to me, dropping the keys in my eagerly open palm. “Did you look inside?”  
I ran to the driver’s side door, yanking it open. There, on the seat, was a single pink lily, my favorite. I picked it up, bringing it up to my nose and inhaling its sweet, potent scent. “You’re way too good to me,” I said, my face breaking into a giant smile.  
“Well, get in,” he urged.  
I stepped into the driver’s seat, quickly buckling up as Sam grabbed the shotgun seat. I turned the key in the ignition, hearing the engine roar to life, and a giddy laughter escaped my lips.  
Sam’s eyes darted between my face and the rearview mirror. I tilted my head at him, confused, as he slowly pointed to the mirror. There, hanging from the rearview, was a necklace. Silver with a small but beautifully elegant metallic star. I reached for it, my mouth gaping open. As I brought it closer to me, I could see that the star had more carvings around it making up a pristine and very pretty anti-possession charm.  
I handed it to Sam, turning my back to him and lifting my hair up, exposing my neck. He took the hint, bringing the necklace in front of me and clasping it in the back as he kissed my shoulder. “Anything to keep you safe,” he whispered. I turned back around to look at him. “Happy Birthday, Y/N.”  
***  
I glared at the car, knowing that the dried-up lily was still in the glovebox and the necklace still hung around my neck. I grasped the keys in my hand. “Just leave it,” I grimaced. “I don’t want it anymore,” I said bitterly as I threw the keys out the window.  
“You’re kidding, right?” Dean practically fumed in the driver’s seat. I turned my head to face him, tears welling in my eyes. Do you need to get your gear out of the trunk?”  
“There’s nothing in it,” I stated simply.  
“You’ve been driving alone, without any weapons? Tell me you at least have a knife on you. A gun. Anything?”  
I stared at him, saying nothing, knowing my answer would just upset him.  
He clenched his jaw, tightening the muscles in his cheeks. “What motel are you staying at?” My expression didn’t change, nor did my silence. “Y/N, where’s your stuff? Your clothes?” I emptied my pockets. A coin purse full of cash, my cell phone, a charger and some lint. Dean’s jaw clenched again. So hard this time that I thought he may break it.   
He put the car in gear and started driving, his jaw still angry, his knuckles white as he gripped the steering wheel. “New rules,” he yelled out in his gravely timbre. “You stay in a motel. You don’t sleep in your backseat. You keep a damn duffel with you. I don’t care if I has clothes in it or not, but you damn well better have weapons, supplies. Something!” I rested my head against the door frame. “You listening to me?”  
“Yeah, Dean. Yeah. I hear you.” I agreed, placating him as I turned to look at him.  
“Hey, I lost my brother, too. That wasn’t just your boyfriend that jumped into the pit. I get it, okay? It blows. But we keep going. He’d never forgive himself if he saw you like this.”  
“It was just a bad night, Dean. I’m good.”  
“Yeah, sure you are. Look, from now on, you’re staying with me, alright? End of discussion.”   
I turned my face back out the window, feeling the sun on my face. “Okay, Dean. Okay.”  
I closed my eyes, allowing myself to drift off to sleep. Before long, we were pulling into the parking lot of a small motel. Dean rested his hand on my shoulder, jostling me awake. “Hey, come on. Let’s get you to your bed.” I stood up, groggily and followed Dean into the front lobby. He rang the small silver bell on the desk and moments later, a man with long blonde hair came to the desk.  
“It’s twenty-five by the hour. Or sixty for the night. That is, if you think you can last that long,” the kid leered at me before locking eyes with Dean.  
“Nice, chuckles. We need a room for the night. Two doubles.”  
“Naw, can’t do that for ya, man. All I have is one room with a king.”  
“Perfect,” Dean said, exasperated.  
Dean signed the guest log and paid the fee for the night. The cashier handed me the key and I started walking towards the room, more than ready to collapse into the bed. I unlocked the door, taking a step in and glancing around.   
***  
“Sam, come on. I’m tired. Let’s just take the room,” I whined.  
“There’s another motel a few miles away. I don’t want us to have to share a room with Dean,” Sam tried to persuade me. It only succeeded in making me whinier.  
“Sammy,” I drew out the word as if I were a five-year-old.  
“Yeah, come on, Sammy,” Dean echoed. “Y/N doesn’t have a problem at all with sleeping with me,” he stepped up next to me, wrapping an arm around my shoulder.  
“Uh huh. Yeah, we’re definitely going to need two rooms,” Sam looked back at the girl behind the counter.  
“No. Absolutely not. We’ll take the one room. Two beds. I don’t care if it’s a bed and a pull-out sofa. We’ll take it,” I declared, slamming down a credit card and grabbing the keys. I turned on my heal, walked away from the boys and headed for the room.  
I unlocked the door, making a bee line for the bed as I dropped my bag on the floor and laid down on the bed closest to the door. I heard the boys walk in behind me, still arguing.  
“Oh, come on, Sam. It was a joke. You’re an easy target. Just get over it already,” Dean was attempting to calm Sam down.   
“Sam, shut up,” I grumbled, my face buried in the pillow. “I’m tired, it’s late, let’s just go to bed. I don’t care where everyone sleeps, but I’m sleeping her.”  
Sam sighed, giving up. “Fine.”  
Dean laid his bag on the desk, taking his jacket off. “Alrighty then, Y/N, scoot over and I’ll just hop on in.”  
I watched Sam glare at Dean. “Sammy, he’s kidding. Just come on.” Sam took his coat off, stepping into the bathroom to change before laying down in bed and pulling me close to him.   
***  
I sat down on the edge of the bed, my eyes drooping and my mouth opening wide in a yawn. Dean walked in behind me. “One bed. This will be…. interesting.”  
“It’s big. Let’s just,” I paused. “Go to sleep. I’m just so tired,” my voice breaking.  
“Okay, alright. Just lay down,” Dean answered me, kneeling down in front of me, holding my face in his hands. “Go to sleep, Y/N. Just go to sleep.” He brought his lips to my forehead, giving me the most contact that I’d had in months.   
I laid down and closed my eyes, a cold chill running through me. Dean sat down on the other side of the bed, bringing his legs in and under the covers, being sure to keep his distance.   
My whole body shook, shivering and almost convulsing with cold chills. “Dean,” I called.   
“You okay?” he asked me, flipping onto his side, facing me and putting his hand on my shoulder.   
“I’m just so cold,” I told him.   
“Okay. Come here. Come on.” He put his arm underneath me, pulling me to his chest as he laid back, putting his arms around me and pulling the blanket up to my chin. “It’ll be alright. Everything’s going to be alright.”  
Within seconds, I fell into my first peaceful and dreamless sleep in months. Dean’s warmth spread through me, thawing my frozen toes and relaxing my tense shoulders. His soft breathing acted as a metronome, breaking the silence and reminding me that, at least for now, I wasn’t alone.  
I woke up slowly, stretching first my arms and then my entire body, and looked over at his sleeping form, still dreaming. My stomach lurched and growled, reminding me that I hadn’t eaten in quite some time. I pushed the blanket off of me, being careful not to move to quickly or loudly, and crumbled it up against Dean’s side, hoping it would trap my body heat next to him and allow him just a little more sleep.   
***  
“Sam,” I complained. “Sam, you’re snoring again. I can’t sleep.”   
His eyes fluttered awake, looking over at me. “I can tuck you in if you want me to,” he said, beginning to roll from his back to his side, facing towards me. “Not a chance, Winchester. I’m tired.” He pouted back at me.  
“You can cuddle me, but no funny business,” I warned, pushing my lips against his. “And stay on your side, please.”  
“Such a sweet talker,” he joked, closing his eyes as he pulled me close to him, his warm breath aimed down at my neck. “That’s cheating,” I accused him, feeling every molecule of my body begin to come to attention. “Is not,” he said, drowsily, moving his hand slowly down my side and to my back, pressing against the small of it as he leaned down and claimed my earlobe with his lips as I gasped.  
“Dude, can you not?” Dean burst from the bed on the far side of the room. “Gross. It’s bad enough I gotta hear you sawing logs all night. I’m definitely not going to hear you doing that.”   
Sam laughed, pulling me closer to him as he burrowed his head into the pillow above me. “You got it,” he replied to Dean.  
I turned to my side, allowing Sam to be the big to my little spoon as I looked over at Dean. “Sorry, Dean,” I granted him.   
“No big deal,” he reassured me. “Some things I just can’t handle hearing.”   
I smiled at him, feeling Sam wrap his arms tighter around me as his snores returned, his lips at my ear. “Goodnight, Dean.”   
“Goodnight, Y/N.”   
***  
There was a piece of hotel stationary on the end table with a hotel pen lying on top of it. I jotted down a note, just in case Dean woke up, letting him know that I’d be back soon. I ran my fingers through my hair, trying to tame my wild and cowlicked locks so that I was mildly presentable. Grabbing the room key, I stepped out into the hallway, closing the door behind me. The vending area was just down the hall and since we had slept through most of the morning, a continental breakfast wasn’t exactly an option. I pulled my change purse out of my pocket, grabbing a few singles as I sauntered up to the machines. There wasn’t much in the way of actual food but there were some chips, some soda, and a surplus of candy and chocolate.   
I piled my purchases in the crook of my arm and headed back to the room. I reached for my room key and was just about to put it in the lock when the door was yanked open from the other side. “What the hell, Y/N?” Dean muttered. “I thought you bolted,” he reached out, grabbing me just below the shoulders and looking at me with worried eyes.   
“I left you a note,” I said by way of explanation as I pushed past him and back into the room.   
Dean closed the door, hanging his head and walking over to me. “Just…don’t scare me like that, got it? Are those Dorito’s?”  
I threw the bag of chips over to him, a smile on my face. “What were you scared of? Some big bad attacking me in the hotel hallways?”  
“Something like that,” he answered, pulling the bag open and beginning to sort through the hoard of junk food. “Orange soda?” he asked with a note of judgment in his tone. “Hey,” I said, defending myself. “Orange is a fruit. That’s basically fruit juice.” I grabbed the drink from him, opening the twist top and taking a sip from it. I grabbed one of the bags of chips and began feeding them into my mouth.  
“We should probably get on the road. What time is it?” Dean looked behind me at the end table, glancing at the alarm clock. “Quarter to two? Huh,” he sighed. I gave him a quizzical look, tilting my head and waiting for an explanation. “I don’t think I’ve slept that long in a while. What time did we get in, three?” I nodded.   
“Looks like we sleep better together.” The words were out of my mouth before I could stop them. Dean gave me a sideways smile and winked at me. “I’ve been saying that for years, sweetheart.” I halfheartedly punched his shoulder.   
“I’m going to go take a shower,” I said, rubbing the remnants of the chips off of my fingers. “Mind if we get on the road and get some real-ish food?” I asked.  
Dean lifted his eyebrows, looking at me in surprise. “You’re actually hungry?”  
“Is that so astonishing?”   
“Normally, no. But the last few months, even before you went all lone ranger, you barely touched a meal let alone asked for one. It’s just nice to hear.”  
I smirked at him over my shoulder as I headed into the bathroom. “I’m pretty sure you’re the only person who has ever tried to tell me that I need to eat more.”   
***  
“Y/N, if you don’t pick somewhere to stop for food, Dean’s going to and you know he’s just going to pick Biggerson’s for the fourth time this week. Please, babe. Just choose,” Sam whined at me from the front seat as Dean chuckled at us.  
“Sweet Tomatoes,” I said, pointing at the restaurant across the road.   
“Works for me,” Sam approved.  
“That place that only serves salads? No way. I need sustenance. Not foliage. Definite veto.”   
“Then Biggerson’s is fine,” I placated Dean, wanting to avoid an argument between the brothers.  
“Alright,” Dean gloated from the front seat. “Girl knows how to make a man happy,” he glanced over at his brother giving him a knowing wink as I watched Sam tense up. I reached my hand over his seat and onto his shoulder, squeezing lightly. “You know, he only does it to bug you,” I tried to comfort him. His response was only a grunt that bordered on a growl. I looked over at Dean’s almost giddy face, disapproval plastered on my own which only served to heighten his sense of victory.  
We walked into Biggerson’s, grabbing a booth in the far corner. None of us grabbed a menu. Over the past few years, we had all memorized it pretty well. The waitress walked up and we all gave our orders. A double bacon cheeseburger for Dean with smothered cheese fries and Sam got a grilled chicken salad. I ordered a plain salmon flank and roasted veggies. Both of the boys stared at me, alarmed.  
“You feeling okay? Sick or something?” Sam asked me. I shook my head.  
“Hey,” Dean said, grabbing my attention. “What gives? You’re usually on my side when it comes to feeding the warrior within.   
“Yeah well, sometimes the warrior within needs to shut up and stick to celery,” I retorted, grabbing my water and taking a few sips.  
The boys stared at me, Sam wrapping a protective arm around my shoulder. “This isn’t you.”   
I stared up into his eyes and tried not to lose myself in the emerald and caramel swirling around in them. “It needs to be,” I admitted.   
“Why? Fish is only fit for Rugaru’s and bears,” Dean teased. “Well I eat as much as both and am at least the size of a bear, so why not?” I snapped back at him.  
“That’s bullshit,” Dean said from across the table. “Eat what you want. You’re fine.” I looked down at my hands, twittling my thumbs. “Y/N, he’s right. You don’t need to change a thing. Whatever has you thinking you do, it’s wrong.”  
“Damn skippy,” Dean said forcefully. “You’re beautiful. Don’t let anybody tell you different.”  
I smiled, picking up my fork and stabbing at a broccoli floret. “Still.”   
Sam leaned his head down, pressing it against the side of my face while Dean stared at me, his brow furrowed, and jaw clenched as his eyes flitted from me to his brother.  
***  
I leaned into the warm water, pushing my hands up against the wall and letting it cascade down my back. The shampoo smelled like strawberries and was almost overwhelming as I scrubbed my hair, running my nails against my scalp and massaging my head. I hadn’t been this well rested or relaxed since before Sam left. Since before my world flipped upside down. I knew that Dean was right. Not only would Sam blame himself for how rundown I’d let myself become, but he’d never have let me go anywhere without being properly defensible and armed.   
For the last six months, I had harbored such anger for him. I took Sam jumping into the pit as a complete and utter betrayal; as if he had abandoned me. But now, in this moment, I began to realize that he might just have been trying to save me instead. Before I had rinsed the shampoo completely out of my hair, I had already decided to forgive him. To move on and keep fighting because of him, not in spite of.   
I finished up in the shower, dried myself off and put the only set of clothes I had back on. “Hey Dean,” I called out. “You okay?” he responded, opening the bathroom door and staring at me as if he hadn’t seen me in weeks, a smile replacing the worried glare that had previously been there. “Wow,” he stuttered. “You clean up nice.”  
I rolled my eyes. “Can we stop somewhere I can get some clothes? I’m going to need more than this if we’re heading out on a hunt tonight.” He smiled, nodding his head in response. “Good to have you back, Y/N.”


	2. Buried Sorrows - Part 2

I was hunting again. After months upon months of doing nothing but drinking and wandering aimlessly with absolutely no destination in mind or any thought as to my own well-being or protection, I was hunting again. It felt amazing to hold a weapon in my hands again; allowing me to feel protected and in control. Dean and I had showed up just in time to stop the demon he had been hunting from skipping town, wearing a veterinarian’s meat suit. And I had forgotten just how much I missed getting one over on the bad guys.  
“Take my lead,” Dean had requested as I ignored his suggestion, diving headfirst into the abandoned industrial complex. His eye roll was audible as I heard him behind me. “Son of a bitch, Y/N.” I smiled to myself, running at the demon head on, relishing in the kickback of my shotgun as the salt rock round barreled into its chest. Within seconds, I had the demon on his back, pouring holy water down its throat, successfully blocking any attempt he made to smoke out of the vessel he was possessing.  
“I’ve got it, Dean. Are we questioning or are we exorcising?”   
“Your call, sweetheart,” he called after me, as I smiled down at the demon below me.  
“Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus,” the demon began to thrash beneath me, my knees pinned down on his chest. “Omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio infernalis adversarii, omnis legio, omnis congregatio et secta diabolica.” The demon struggled, sputtering small puffs of black smoke. I caught a glimpse of Dean out of the corner of my eye. He squatted on the floor, the tip of his knife pointed at the ground, as he smiled at me, a glimmer of something in his eye. “Ergo,m omnis legio diabolica, adjuramus te, cessa decipere humanas creaturas, eisque aeternae perditionis venerum propinare…” I looked back up at Dean, a wicked and joyful smile on my face. He nodded his head, encouraging me to continue. “Vade, satana, inventor et magister omnis fallaciae, hostis humanae salutis, humiliare sub potenti manu Dei; contremisce et effuge, invocato a nobis sancto et terribili nomine quem inferi tremunt.” I hesitated, looking back down at the demon’s vessel. It writhed beneath me, pain and anguish evident in its actions. I didn’t see any blood, felt no obvious broken bones. And knowing that the only chance we had at saving the human the demon had chosen was for me to finish my chant, I continued. “Ab insidiis diaboli, libera nos, Domine. Ut Ecclesiam tuam secure tibi facias libertate servire, te rogamus audi nos.”  
The black smoke of the demon screamed out of the man’s mouth, swerving around me and racing for the nearest exit. When it had left, the man slumped over, unconscious but still breathing. Dean helped me get the man back up on his feet, each of us wrapping one of his arms over our shoulders as we walked him back out to the Impala. “Do yourself a favor,” Dean instructed the man. “Next time you smell sulfur, throw out some holy water or hell, say some Hail Mary’s.”  
The man, a vet from Baltimore, stared at him incredulously, completely shell shocked. “Demons. Demons are real.” He kept repeating over and over again as we drove him to the nearest hospital. “Oh yeah,” Dean muttered. “That’s going to help. Looks like he’s going to get a one-way ticket to the nut house.”   
We dropped him off at the hospital entrance, declining to come in. Going in meant answering questions and that wasn’t going to be a very easy task considering the circumstances. Dean looked over at me from the driver’s seat, a smile on his face.  
“You look…better,” he said, relief and surprise evident in his tone. “Thanks. I guess hunting suits me,” I smiled to myself. “Yeah it does,” he said, accentuating his words dramatically. I laughed whole heartedly at his antics. “No,” he said, seriously. “I mean it. You look better. Happier. Hotter even, if that were possible.” His eyes locked on mine, a tense and thick tone filling the air between us.   
“Thanks, Dean,” I whispered, moving closer to him in the bench seat, wrapping my arms around his neck and pulling him in close to me. I felt him hesitate before his arms circled me, his left hand stroking the hair on the back of my head. “For everything.” I pulled myself away from him slowly, my eyes dropping down and glancing at his lips.   
“No problem, sweetheart,” he breathed, his hand coming up and stroking my face, tucking my hair behind my ear. I leaned in towards him, my chest heaving and my lips quivering, anticipating the feel of his lips on mine. His eyes darted back up to mine as I watched the desire in his eyes burn. “Dean,” his name tumbled out of my mouth and his eyes looked up at the ceiling before coming back to rest on me. “Besides,” he said. “What kind of brother would I be if I didn’t protect the love of my idiot brother’s life.”  
“Oh,” I said, his words sending darting pains through my chest, as I breathed out, a pain I hadn’t felt searing through me. “Right,” I agreed, laughing as I pushed myself away from him and back to my seat on the passenger side. I looked out the window, sinking down in my seat and resting my head on the door frame as my eyes focused on the stars. I heard Dean’s sigh as he turned the ignition, driving away from the hospital and pointing us back towards home.  
***  
“You know, one of these days, he’s not going to just be joking,” Sam mused, wallowing in the corner, sitting in the hotel desk chair, nursing the beer he held loosely in his hand.   
“What are you talking about, Sam?” I asked him, irritation lacing my words. He’d been drinking all night, growing more and more needy as he did.   
“I’m talking about Dean, Y/N. One of these days. It’ll happen,” he took another gulp from the neck of his beer. “It’ll happen.”   
I walked over to him, straddling my legs around his thighs as I sat in his lap. “What will happen?” I asked him, leaning down and kissing his neck. “He’ll make a move. He will,” Sam’s voice dropped and began to seem sad. “And you’ll fall for it. You will. He’s the smooth one. I’m just….”  
“You’re just drunk, Sam. Come on,” I began trailing kisses from his neck up to his cheek and over to his lips. “Kiss me, Sammy,” I asked him. He looked at me, his eyes bloodshot and glistening. “He likes you, you know,” Sam continued.  
“Sammy, isn’t it a little obvious that I like you?” I asked him, planting my hands on his shoulders, trying to cover up the anger that was building in me. Letting out a sigh, I looked down at the floor, standing back up and taking a few steps, turning my back to him. “I’m going to bed, Sam. When you sober up and realize how absolutely insane you sound, you’re welcome to join me.”   
I quickly changed into pajamas, kicking my feet under the blankets and laying down, resting my head on my pillow. A few minutes later, I felt the bed sink down, and an arm wrap around my waist. “Sorry,” Sam’s voice slurred. “Yeah,” I retorted sleepily. “I know you wouldn’t. But…Dean would. He will. I love you, Y/N.”  
“Goodnight, Sam,” I answered angrily.  
***  
A few hours later, Dean shoved my shoulder, jostling me awake. “Hey. I need to hit the hay. I haven’t seen a hotel for at least 40 miles. There’s a forest preserve up the road a couple of miles. Mind if we rough it for tonight?”  
“Whatever works, Dean,” I said, attempting to detach myself from the conversation.  
He pulled into the preserve and switched off the engine, kicking his feet up onto the center console and wrapping his jacket around his shoulders. I was completely and utterly awake, incapable of even thinking about going back to sleep. Pushing open the door, I stepped out of the car and threw my duffel through the window, back into my seat.  
“Y/N? What are you doin’?” Dean’s voice called from the driver’s seat. “Can’t sleep. I’m just gonna go for a walk or something.”  
“You are coming back, right?” he said, his eyes still closed. “Yeah,” I answered. “We’ll see.”  
I walked away from the Impala, shoving my hands in my jean pockets and letting out a deep breath, watching the air from my mouth turn into a cloud-like mist in the cold. The hood of my green coat hung heavy on the top of my head, trapping my body heat in but failing at making the chill in my bones go away. Rejection I could handle. But the guilt that had come along with it this time stung. What kind of person could I be? Making a move on Dean. Sam’s brother. Just ten paces or so away from the car and I was already disgusted with myself.   
I knew that Sam was gone. He was in the pit, with Lucifer, and no matter what we did top side, he wasn’t coming back. I knew that I needed to move on, and slowly but surely I was. But my attraction to Dean? My need, my craving, my wanting him? As much as I wanted it to, it didn’t feel wrong. But here I was, walking alone in a forest preserve, feeling like the smallest and most grotesque person to ever live.  
There were rushed footsteps coming up behind me, someone’s panting breaths catching up to me quickly. I knew it could really only be one person.   
“Hey,” he called from behind me. Dean, of course, reached out, wrapping his fingers lighting around my arm, spinning me around to face him. My eyes stayed locked on the ground between us, struggling to keep my hands in my pockets as I pulled my arm out of his grasp.  
“I’m just going for a walk, Dean. I don’t need you to babysit me for that,” I bit at him, attempting to cover my embarrassment with anger. He glowered at me. “I’ve never babysat you. You know that.”  
I laughed at him, bringing my eyes back up to his. “I’m just your brother’s girl. You’re just here out of some twisted sense of duty and obligation,” I said, sadly. He just kept staring at me, his mouth gaping open and his shallow breathing returning to normal. “Don’t worry, Dean. You don’t have to feel responsible for me or whatever. I’ll make it just fine on my own,” I attempted to reassure him. Release him from his obligatory role.  
“Y/N, there has never been a time, now or before Sam left, that I protected you out of obligation!” He yelled, his voice rising as he threw his arms in the air angrily. “What, are you blind? Can’t you see it?” His hands were on his head now, his eyes glistening and frustrated.   
I shook my head, moving to turn back around and continue down my path. “No,” he demanded, grabbing my arm and turning me to face him again. I turned away from him, trying again in vain to continue. “Damnit, Y/N, stop it!” His hand was on my arm again, forcing me into his chest as he wrapped an arm around my waist and pushed his fingers through my hair, pulling my face to his as he bent his neck down, kissing my lips as I gasped.   
He brought both of his hands up now, pushing my hood down and moving his fingers through my hair as my lips formed to his. I moved my tongue closer to his mouth, caressing his bottom lip and encouraging him to open his lips to me. He did so, and gently massaged my tongue with his, sending jolts of electricity down my spine and warming my entire body as he continued kissing and caressing me.  
When we finally broke our kiss, we were both panting, hungry for more but needing to breathe. I was dizzy. Overwhelmed with emotion. “But you said-” I began. “Fuck what I said,” he cut me off, bringing his lips back to mine in a gentle, chaste kiss. He brought his hands down and out of my hair, bringing one hand behind my head as he pulled my hood back up. His other hand slid down my arm, grasping my hand and holding it in his own.   
“Come on,” he whispered. “Back to the car.”   
I smiled, still overcome by what had just happened and followed him back to the Impala, his hand never letting go of my own. Dean opened the passenger side door for me, holding it as I stepped in and shutting it behind me before coming back to the driver’s side and taking his normal seat. I watched him start up the engine wordlessly as he shifted the car into gear and began driving.  
“Where are we going?” I asked him.   
“Find a hotel. It’s too cold to sleep in the car tonight,” he said, looking over at me, a sad smile coming over his face.  
I looked at him, giving him a smile hoping that he might elaborate, and nodded in agreement. “Let’s go then,” I said. He reached his hand over the seat and found my own, grasping it tightly in his.   
Twenty minutes passed without a word spoken between us. There was no music playing and Dean never let go of my hand, his knuckles turning white from the pressure, as if I were his lifeline. We pulled into the first hotel that we saw, and Dean got out of the car to get us a room, asking me to stay in the car while he did so. And for once, I listened. My mind was too overwhelmed with the questions that needed answers and the worries that needed addressed.   
Was that kiss just a desperate attempt to get me to stay? So that he wouldn’t have to come find me? Did he actually have feelings for me, or was he just trying to placate me? Was the fact that my ex was his brother too weird an issue to get passed? A myriad of scenarios ran through my brain, none of them garnering the results I so hoped for. Dean’s knock on my window pulled me out of my reverie and he held up two room keys, gesturing for me to bring my things and follow him to the room.   
I nodded, grabbing my duffel as I listened to him opening the trunk, grabbing his own bag and, I was sure, filling it with the weapons and protective symbols needed to make sure we could safely make it through the night or until we found another case. When I opened my door, he was closing the trunk and walking back up to me. He stopped when he was just next to me, his eyebrows furrowed as he tried to catch my eye. “You’re biting your lip,” he observed. “So?” I retorted.   
“You only do that when you’re upset.” I was surprised he had noticed. My quirks and my tells were usually lost on people. And I did my best to not let too many of my emotions seep through.  
“Yeah…” I stuttered. “Well. Just. Things on my mind, I guess.”  
He reached down, grabbing my hand once more, and led me to the room, unlocking the door and throwing his bag on lone king size bed. He turned to face me as he sat down, his brow still creased, and his jaw clenched. “I was out of line. Kissing you. Wasn’t I?” he asked, his voice full of that familiar self-loathing. “You still want him. Want Sam.” His voice sounded so different; it had taken on a much melancholier tone than before.   
“No, Dean. You weren’t out of line at all. I wanted that. So much. It’s just that…” I stopped myself, afraid to let the words come out of my mouth and be unable to take them back. He stood up, walking over to me and rubbing his hands down my arms. “Just what?” he asked.  
“It’s just that I don’t want you to be humoring me. You know? I know you used to joke and pretend to hit on me, but it was never real. Even if now, I wish it were. And I don’t want you to feel guilty.” I looked into his eyes, nearly losing my train of thought in the endless emerald waves in them. “Because I don’t.”  
His hand cupped my cheek as his thumb rubbed against my skin. He leaned down, planting another sweet, tender kiss on my lips. “Y/N?” he asked. “Uh huh?”  
“I was never joking.”  
I looked at him, my mouth gaping open and my eyes feeling as wide as a deer in headlights. “What?” I asked him, unsure that I had heard him correctly the first time.   
His thumb still making circles against my cheek, his eyes turned downward as he chuckled, and his lips broke into that dumbfounding smile of his. The one that completely enraptured and enthralled me every time. “Did Sam know?” I asked him.  
“Yeah,” he said biting his lower lip. “He knew. Fought with me about it all the time. I just never really admitted it to him. Or really to myself,” his confessed, his eyes growing pensive and his eyebrows creasing. “Until now, that is.” His eyes darted back up to my own, a hint of guilt seeming to shine through them. I brought my hand up to his face, feeling the stubble that had grown in throughout the day. “Don’t,” I demanded, my voice soft yet firm.  
“Don’t what?” He tried to play off his emotions, as he usually did. “Don’t feel guilty or whatever it is that you’re talking yourself into feeling. Just stop. I’m right here. I’m in this, too.” I pushed myself onto my tip toes and pulled his face down to mine, forcing his lips to meet my own as the sensation of it took my breath away and seemed to electrify the air around us. I deepened the kiss, pulling him to me harder and wrapping my arms around his neck as his hands grabbed at my back, wandering lower until they were at my hips, pulling them closer to his own.   
We broke apart, both of our lips red and swollen with passion. His right hand was in my hair as his eyes, desperate and wanting, locked into mine. “Y/N,” he whispered, pleadingly. I brought our lips together again, pulling him with me as I backed myself against the bed. All too soon, he was pushing me away. “Y/N, you need to tell me now. Are you sure this is what you want?” I leaned back, allowing my knees to bend onto the bed as I locked my lips onto his and pulled him down to the bed with me. “Yes, Dean. I’m sure I want this. I want you.”   
My words seemed to be his undoing as his mouth responded, seemingly ravenous as his hands expertly explored my body. First my sides, as he pushed my t-shirt up and over my head, then my hips as he locked his fingers into the line of my jeans, unbuttoning and unzipping them with ease. I lay on the bed beneath him, my bra and panties the only barrier between us. Somewhere along the way, his vestments had been discarded somewhere on the floor. I could feel the heat emanating off of his skin, increasing his scent and, as my thigh could attest, his desire for me. I pulled my panties down to my ankles and wiggled free of them.  
He rolled off of me and onto the bed, pulling me on top of him as he kept his lips in contact with mine. Reaching around behind me, he slowly and methodically unclasped my bra, releasing my chest. His hands gently massaged them, taking my arousal to new heights, as he kept his lips on mine, an onslaught that came so close to being my undoing.   
“I’ve waited for this,” he kissed my neck, “waited for you,” he continued punctuating his words with kisses to my most sensitive areas, “for so long.” As he finished his sentence, he thrust up into me, filling me and bringing a gasp from my lips. “Oh, God. Dean,” I moaned, feeling myself already teetering on the edge.   
His eyes held mine as he slowly and rhythmically thrust into me. My eyes fluttered close, so close to my release and so overwhelmed with every sensation I was experiencing. “Keep your eyes on me,” he requested, an urgency and desperation in his voice. I snapped my eyes back up to his as he lowered one hand between us, massaging and tantalizing my core as he took me over the edge.   
My breaths were coming in short sharp succession as I reached and came down from my high. I could feel him tightening, swelling as he built up to his orgasm. I clenched my wall around him, watching him come undone and reach his release so quickly after my own. He stilled, both of us silent as our breathing slowly returned to normal. Our bodies still connected. He rested his forehead down upon mine as he opened his eyes, looking down at me. “You okay?” he asked me hesitantly.  
“Okay?” I attempted to sound indignant. “I am so much more than okay.”  
***  
We spent nearly a week in the hotel room, not leaving the bed for anything more than bathroom breaks or meals. Both of our phones sat on the nightstand switched off as they had been since that first night. “Think we should check the messages?” Dean called to me from the bedroom as I showered. “Sure,” I said half-heartedly. Checking the messages undoubtedly meant that we were about to be called back into the world. Back into our world at least. Where we would have at least one if not more leads on cases to follow up on. And probably a tongue-lashing from Bobby to look forward to, as well.  
I stepped out of the shower, drying my hair in a towel and winding it around my head to dry as I walked into the bedroom and began getting myself dressed.  
“What are you doing?” he asked me, his eyebrows lifting with lust. I rolled my eyes at him, grabbing a pair of jeans and a fitted black t-shirt from my duffel. “You don’t need those,” he remarked, gesturing towards my clothing. His hand held his cell phone up to his ear as he listened. All I could hear was a muffled voice on the other end. I slipped my jeans on as I kept an eye on him. “On second thought,” he said, clicking the red “End Call” button on his phone and looking over at me, concern plastered on his face.  
“What is it?” I asked, pulling my shirt down and walking over towards him. “Bobby,” he said. “He’s got a case.” I looked at him confused. “Isn’t that a good thing? Why the face?”  
He shook his head, attempting to avoid the topic as he handed me my phone. “You should check yours.” I grabbed my phone from his hand, “Uh uh. You’re not getting away that easy. What’s up?”   
“Are we sure we want to go back out there? Hunting I mean? I kinda like it in here,” he wrapped his arms around me. “No monsters, no big bad. Just you and me.” He kissed me chastely. “I could do this, ya know.”  
“Yeah,” I admitted. “I know. But those monsters out there? They aren’t going away even if we do stay here. And people will end up in their crossfires. We can stop that. Come on.” I powered my phone back on and waited for the messages to come piling in. I already had three voicemails from Bobby and one text message letting me know how annoyed he was that he had to resort to this text messaging nonsense.   
“So, we heading for Bobby’s then?” I asked him. “I guess so,” Dean pouted, grabbing his duffel bag and throwing his phone along with the clothes that had been strewn around the room into it. “Don’t worry, honey,” I placated him. “Maybe, if you’re good, when we get there, I’ll bake you a pie.”


	3. Buried Sorrows - Part 3

I woke up slowly, my head leaning against the door frame and my legs folded up and halfway on the front bench seat of the Impala. Dean’s hand was lightly shaking my arm, encouraging me to open my eyes. “Y/N,” he whispered, “We’re here.” I looked at him through foggy eyes, confused at his chosen method of waking me up. “Usually, when you’re trying to rouse me, you spontaneously blast Metallica and scream next to my ear.” He laughed at me as I rubbed my eyes. “You complaining?”  
I shook my head no and sat upright, placing my hand on the door handle and pushing it open, taking a step out onto the gravel driveway that was so familiar to me.  
“About damn time!” I heard Bobby’s surly voice carry from the patio as he stomped down the steps and over to us. “Where the hell have you been, boy? Been calling you for days.” He reached Dean first, enveloping him in a relieved hug. His eyes shot over to me. “And you,” he pointed at me, releasing Dean and heading for me. “You’ve been with this idjit the whole time, haven’t you? Neither of you answerin’ your phones. I should knock you loose between the ears!” His voice rose as he approached me, pulling me into one of his teddy bear hugs as I breathed in the comforting musty scent that was Bobby. “Damn good to see you, girl,” he whispered in my ear.  
“You, too, Bobby.” I smiled as he placed his hands on my shoulders and broke our hug. He looked me over, an air of suspicion crossing his eyes. “Something’s different about you.” I smiled as my answer as Dean walked up, clapping his hand onto Bobby’s shoulder, effectively distracting him. “So what’s this case?” I watched them both head up the stairs and into the front door, Bobby telling Dean everything he could about a nest of vampires down the way. A couple of hunters had gone up against them and taken a few out but no one had been able to finish them off.  
“They’ve killed a couple of hunters already? Jesus, Bobby. Why didn’t you let us know that?” Dean fumed, frustration flowing off of him in waves.  
“Watch your tone with me, son. I’ve been calling you for a week and you never even checked the messages. Too many all nighters with the local floozies?” Bobby took on an almost judgmental tone, a rarity for him. Dean’s eyes darted over to me, his expression apologetic. I locked eyes with him, attempting to keep my face stoic, as if being reminded of Dean’s previous hobbies didn’t bother me.   
“Well what the hell was that?” Bobby burst out, slamming his fist on the table and looking to me for an answer. I opted to stay silent, fixing my gaze instead on the table and the books that had been strewn on top of it. I felt Bobby tense up as he switched his gaze onto Dean, waiting for some kind of answer that didn’t come. “Someone better tell me what’s going on here. I’m not a moron.”  
I closed my eyes, preparing for the lecture we were about to endure. “Bobby,” I began. “Dean and I. We’re sort of…a thing, I guess.” I chanced a glance at him, hoping to get some idea of what his reaction was going to be.   
“A thing?” he repeated mockingly. I nodded my head, biting my lower lip and attempting to keep calm.   
“What kind of a thing? Hell, a chair is a thing. A teapot is a thing. You trying to tell me that you’re a little teapot?”  
“We’re together. Me and her,” Dean said, matter-of-factly.   
“Okay,” Bobby replied. “This next, it’s headed up by this vamp. All around badass name Kakistos. Nobody’s been able to take him out yet-” Dean interrupted him.  
“What, no lecture? No guilt trip?”  
“Like I’m supposed to be surprised? You looked at the girl like she was warm apple pie. You two flirted more than any horny sixteen-year-olds I’ve ever met, making doe eyes at each other. If you want a lecture, I can give you one. But a guilt trip? I’m guessin’ you two have enough of that all by yourselves. Even though you shouldn’t,” Bobby replied, looking pointedly at Dean as he made his point.  
Dean sat in his chair, seemingly flabbergasted. “Okay,” I let out a large sigh, releasing the anxiety and tension I had building up. “So, Kakistos. What’s so special about him?”   
“Far as I can tell, nothing. ‘Cept he’s older than old. The name, Kakistos, is Greek. Ancient as all get out. Means 'The Worst of the Worst.’ All the hunters that have been going up against him were strong, too. Haven’t been sending in rookies. Still. They all come out in body bags and Kakistos comes out without a scratch.”  
I could practically see Dean salivating over the idea of a hunt that nobody else has been able to finish, his competitiveness seeping out of him and into the air. “Where is he,” he questioned Bobby. “You’re not gonna like it.” Dean raised his eyebrows at him, challenging him. “Kansas. Lawrence to be exact.”  
Dean’s head sunk. I knew what Lawrence meant to him. Nothing but bad memories and dying hopes. “Had to be Lawrence. Of course,” he breathed out. “Well, looks like we better hit the road then,” he surmised, lifting his head and looking up at me. I met his gaze and gave him a look, asking him if he was sure. He nodded almost imperceptibly. “Let’s get some shut eye. Head out in the morning. We’ve been driving all day and I’d like to get it all done in one go.”  
“You know where the bedrooms are,” Bobby said, pushing himself away from the table. “Just,” he said, turning back to face us, “don’t be too loud, alright? I may be old but I ain’t deaf.” I instantly turned a deep shade of red, covering my face with my hands and trying not to look as mortified as I felt.  
“And on that note,” I said meekly as I stood up, grabbing my duffel bag and heading for the guest rooms down the hall. Dean followed closely behind me, laughing whole heartedly as he caught up to me. He reached out, wrapping his fingers gently around my elbow as he slowed down his step and pulled me around to face him. “You know he’s just trying to embarrass you, right,” he laughed at me.  
“Yeah well, doesn’t seem to be getting a rise out of you,” I said through clenched teeth.  
“Oh, well, Y/N,” Dean took a step closer to me so that I could feel his breath on my neck, “that’s because you’re the only one who gets a rise of out me.” He planted a kiss on my neck, making me tremble and gasp.  
“No!” I declared, pushing him away. “Not working, Winchester!” I turned around, walking through the hall and down to the room I’d spent so many nights in. I closed and locked the door behind me, throwing my duffel on the bed as I stepped into the Jack and Jill bathroom connected to it.   
“Awww, come on, Y/N. You really going to make me sleep alone?” I pulled my hair up into a ponytail and rinsed my face off in the sink before coming back to the door and unlocking it.   
“See,” he said cockily as he walked into the room, stopping next to me. “I knew you could never resist me,” he landed a kiss on my cheek as I rolled my eyes, closing the door behind him.   
We pulled up to the old farmhouse that Bobby had said the vamps were staying. So far, we only counted 5 of them but we knew that there had to be at least one more. None of the ones we had seen coming and going seemed to be intimidating or powerful enough to be this Kakistos.   
“So, what’s your plan?” I asked Dean as I leaned into the windshield, hoping I could get a better view.   
“Oh, you know me, sweetheart. I say we just run in guns blazing.” I didn’t miss the enthusiastic smile and flirtatious wink he gave me. I raised my eyebrow at him skeptically. “I figure you go around back and cover the exits. I’ll go in through the side. See if we can funnel them out the front door. The sun should be coming up now so if we can get them outside, we can catch them off guard.”  
“I’m honestly surprised they’re all still awake,” I confessed. “Seems odd. Shouldn’t they be asleep by now?”   
Dean shrugged and opened the driver’s side door, heading towards the trunk and loading up for our assault. This really doesn’t seem like a good idea, I thought to myself as I opened my door and grabbed my machete from the back seat.   
“Here,” Dean said as he handed me a small glass bottle full of Dead Man’s Blood. “Syringes are in that bag,” he tilted his chin toward the tan satchel in the trunk. I grabbed a few of the empty syringes and began filling them from the bottle in my hand. I tucked a few of them into my inside coat pocket as I handed a few over to Dean who did the same. Stuffing the still full bottle into my back pocket, I picked up a second machete, intent on having as many weapons and defense options as possible. Dean stared at me, his smirk becoming more and more evident as the rays of the coming sunrise danced on his face.  
“Damn, that’s a good look on you.” I walked over to him and wrapped my arms carefully around his waist, making sure to tuck the machete blades safely away from his body. I leaned forward and pushed my lips passionately against his, sucking his bottom lip in between my teeth and softly biting it before I broke the kiss. “Let’s do this,” I said.  
We walked silently towards the barn, communicating only with our eyes and hand signals. I jogged to the back door securing the exits as I went. I crouched down next to the back door and waited for the telltale sounds of Dean crashing the party. It didn’t take long. I could just barely hear his voice, teasingly provoking the vamps. “What, no booze? I thought this was a party.” I could hear the muffled sounds of bodies hitting the wall, of punches being thrown and of fights beginning. “Sorry, buddy,” I heard Dean’s voice again as I threw open the door. “I’m not on the menu.” I came into the room just in time to see Dean’s blade slicing across the neck of one of the vamps, effectively and efficiently beheading it.  
“Heya, Sweetheart,” he turned on his charm. “Come to join in on the fun?”  
Two men came barreling towards me, both much bigger and bulkier than myself and intent on taking me down. I held my stance, digging my feet into the soft ground, crouching down and preparing both of my blades at my sides. By the time they noticed my movements, it was too late. I swung both of my arms towards my center, wrapping them around myself as my machete’s hit their marks, rewarding me with the thick thud of their heads hitting the ground. “Three down,” I smiled at Dean who was mid fisticuffs with another of the vampires.  
I spotted the last of them. A woman, not to much older than myself, with long wavy blonde hair and eyes that seemed bloodshot and tired. I ran after her as I watched her grab for handle to the front door. She began stepping outside. I paused for a moment, waiting for the groans of pain to burst from her mouth. She didn’t disappoint. Her knees buckled as I watched the sun’s rays hit her skin, her arms looking as if they were beginning to boil and steam. I ran up to her, grabbing her by her glowing blonde hair and pulled her back into the room.  
Grabbing one of the syringes from my inside pocket, I plunged the needle into her arm and depressed it until the full dose of dead man’s blood was coursing its way through her. “She panted and wailed as she fell back down to the ground, her skin beginning to heal itself already.  
“Not feeling so strong now, huh?” I dared, kneeling over her as I listened to the sounds of the other vamp and Dean’s fight ending with the deep hollow tone of a head hitting the floor. “Where’s Kakistos?” I asked the girl. “He’ll kill me,” she said with a gasp. “What do you think I’m going to do to you?” I placed my blade up against her throat, threatening to push it through her skin.  
“He’ll kill you before my skull hits the ground,” she stayed strong in her resolve. I sighed. “Wrong answer.” I pushed the machete forcefully through her neck until her blonde coated head rolled away from me.   
I could hear Dean walking slowly towards me when a powerful hand jutted out from behind me, taking hold of my neck and cutting off my air supply. I locked eyes with Dean, seeing his pupils dilate as anger radiated from him. He broke into a sprint, grasping his machete hard enough to make his knuckles turn white.   
“Ah, ah, ah,” the deep voice came from behind me. “Another step and I may just squeeze hard enough to break her spine.”   
Dean stopped dead in his tracks, his arms down at his sides but his legs still ready to run for it if he could. “I’m going to end you,” Dean’s voice grew deeper than I’d ever heard it. His were locked behind me, on the face of the man who was now lifting me off of the ground as his fingers clasped my throat even tighter. My vision was beginning to turn black and there were spots flashing throughout the things that I could see. My eyes felt as if they were going to pop out of their sockets with the pressure that was being applied and although I was grabbing at the fingers of my assailant and desperately trying to pry them loose, it was having no effect.   
My eyes were fluttering closed, and I could feel the strength in my arms waning. “Y/N!” Dean’s gravelly timbre shouted at me, stunning my eyes back open. I could feel my lungs struggling as my arms dropped to my sides. I saw Dean running towards me as I was thrown into the wall. I registered the sharp stabbing pain through my thigh just as my eyes closed, my vision going black and my hearing drowned out, losing all connection to consciousness.   
My eyes opened slowly, hesitant to wake up and not particularly excited to start the day. I threw the blanket off my legs, swinging them down off of the couch as I sleepily rubbed my eyes. Standing up, I could feel him walking up behind me as his warm calloused hands snaked themselves around my waist, clutching together in front of me. I leaned my head back on his chest, groaning my displeasure at not being asleep.  
“You can’t sleep forever, you know,” he teased as he leaned down and planted a kiss on my cheek. “Challenge accepted,” I said, my tone serious. He leaned his head down further, resting his mouth on my shoulder as I leaned back into him, my eyes focusing on the ceiling.   
His lips were warm, his hands even warmer, as he wound himself around me, cuddling into me softly. “I need you,” he whispered. I turned to face him, still locked in his embrace. His long hair obscured his face as I reached out to push it back behind his ear. “I’m right here,” I tried to reassure him. “Don’t leave me,” his voice sounded so sad. “Sam?” I asked pushing the last of his hair back. He lifted his head to look me in the eye as I caught my first glance of him.   
His skin was red. His cheeks looked as if holes were burning through them and embers were forcing their way through his bones. I watched as flames burst from his forehead, consuming the majority of his face, save for his eyes which were burning red. I gasped and tried to pull away from him. “You need to wake up, Y/N,” his melting lips crooned. “I need you,” he whined as his entire body was engulfed in flames. “Sam!” I screamed into nothingness.   
Everything in the room faded to black. I stumbled around the room but surprisingly wasn’t bumping into anything. I kept walking, hoping to find someone or something. “Dean!” I yelled into the abyss. There was no answer. Just faint murmurs. Whispers in the dark.   
Suddenly, my leg collapsed as pain shot into my thigh. I could feel my pulse quicken, my blood pressure rising and my breathing becoming erratic. “Dean! Help!” I screamed, my chest shaking with the effort as the pain intensified. I was getting cold. So very cold. As if my entire body was plunged into a frozen lake and trapped beneath the ice. The whispers became more distinguishable now and I could just make out words.  
“Hang on,” I heard Dean’s voice saying. “Stay with me,” he pleaded. I closed my eyes, hoping to wake up from this nightmare. And then, I did.   
I found myself lying in the back of Dean’s Impala laying a pool of my own blood. There was a gaping wound in my leg, straight through my thigh. I was losing a lot of blood, much more than I’d like and far too quickly for me to be able to hold on much longer. My teeth ground together as I was racked with sobs. “Y/N, hold on,” Dean begged from the front seat, reaching his arm back to me and reaching for my hand. “We’re almost there. We’ll be at the hospital soon. Just hang on.” His words were pleading, desperate and hopeless.  
The chill I had experienced in my nightmare overtook me again and I began to fall asleep as the pain ebbed slowly. My breathing slowed, becoming less erratic. “Kakistos?” I asked him, hoping that we had at least finished the job that we had begun. “He’s dead, sweetheart. We got him. Stay with me.”   
“That’s good,” I said as my eyes slowly closed, sleep overtaking me.   
* * *  
The stinging scent of alcohol and antiseptic filled my nose, offending my nostrils and forcing me into consciousness. “It smells,” I said, opening my eyes slowly and taking in my surroundings. I was lying in a hospital bed, draped in a very unattractive blue gown, while machines stood next to me, beeping and making various noises. The needle in my hand pinched, the tape surrounding it making my skin look wrinkled and pink.  
I looked over to the reclining guest chair to my side where Dean sat. His mouth was parted ever so slightly as he snored, only half covered with a fleece blanket. I smiled and briefly chuckled as I moved to lean on my side. My leg sharply disagreed with my movements and sent a bolt of pain that ran up my spine to remind me of its injury.   
My wince was enough to wake Dean as he jolted awake, pulling his mouth closed and sitting up as he rested his hands on my bedside and called out my name. Our eyes met as I laid back, relieving the pressure that I had caused. “Hi,” I said.   
“You’re awake. Holy shit, you’re awake.” Dean stood up, abruptly taking my head in his hands and planting chaste kisses around my hair line as his thumbs massaged my cheeks. He lowered his gaze to meet my eyes and pressed his lips against my own tenderly but with such passion and fervor that it took my breath away. One of the machines to my side began beeping just as Dean broke away from the kiss still cradling my head in his hands.  
“I see you’ve decided to join us,” a middle-aged woman wearing a long white lab coat announced as she walked into the room, stopping to rub some sanitizer between her hands. “Welcome back, Holly.” I looked at her puzzled. “Holly, honey, this is Dr. Campos. She’s the one who stitched you up. Got you put back together after the accident. The insurance company said she’s the best,” Dean explained. Ah right. The insurance. Under Holly Weinbacher, I thought to myself quickly catching up to the plot we would have to weave.  
“Thank you, doc,” I expressed as loudly as I could, my throat was raw and each sound I made ached in my muscles. My hand went up to my throat, remembering that Kakistos had nearly strangled me to death holding me up by it. Dean’s eyes lit up as he looked at me. “Honey,” I began to tease, my voice hoarser and gravely than his was. “You’re acting like it’s Christmas morning.”   
“May as well be,” he agreed, running his hand over my hair.   
“You should be ready to go home in a day or so. I’m concerned about possible damage to your vocal cords and I’d like to keep an eye on your leg. The damage was mainly cosmetic and for the most part, no major muscles or tendons were torn. But I’d rather be safe than sorry. How’s your pain? We can increase your Dilauted if you need us to,” the doctor explained to me.  
“Please, Doc. I’d like to stay awake. And I’d really like to sleep in my own bed tonight.”   
The doctor creased her eyebrows and pursed her lips. “I wouldn’t recommend that. I really think you should stay a few more days for observation.”  
Dean stood back up, his hand resting on my arm. “You need to do whatever the doctor says, Holly.” His tone was forceful and demanding. Which only succeeded in making me more resolute.   
“I want to be at home tonight. I’ll be fine. I’d like to leave now.” I looked back at the doctor who was nearly glaring at me. “You’d be leaving against medical advice. You do realize that?”  
“Yep, I get it,” I said as I began tugging at the multiple wires that were fastened to my body with what seemed like super glue. “I’ll send a nurse in then to discharge you.” The doctor looked at Dean. “Call us if she needs anything. Anything at all, Mr. Weinbacher.” Her look was pointed at Dean who, according to our insurance cards, was my husband.  
As the doctor left the room, Dean looked me in the eye. “What the hell?” he said, shock and anger radiating off of him. “Take me home,” I cried, holding back tears from my eyes that felt as though they were about to burst like a hole in a dam.   
My entire body was shaking. I felt like I was on fire and the sweat dripping down my hairline agreed. I placed my hand on the top of the Impala, stabilizing myself as I took a few deep breaths and tried to calm myself down. The anxiety and fear I’d felt upon waking hadn’t left and the closer I got to the Impala, the more sure I was of my decision.   
Dean held the passenger side door open for me as I lifted my leg and placed my foot gently into the footwell. I slowly lowered myself and took a seat as I kept my injured leg outside the car. Dean gently placed his hands on my leg as he lifted it slowly and helped me rest it down into the car. “Yeah, this was a stellar plan,” he muttered.   
I smiled in spite of his displeasure while he closed my door and walked over to the driver’s side. He was visibly upset, his jaw clenched and his hands resting firmly on the steering wheel. “So,” he snapped his eyes to look up at me. “Where to?” His tone was irate, and I knew he was angry even if he was doing his best to hide it. I laid my head back onto the headrest and let out a deep sigh. “To Bobby’s, I guess.” I closed my eyes briefly, feeling exhausted. But when a flash of Sam’s burning face, twisted and tormented, came screeching into my view, I couldn’t help but stay awake.  
Dean looked over at me, his eyes now narrowed in confusion and concern as the anger seemed to ebb. I still hadn’t told him what I’d seen. The nightmarish vision of Sam and the overwhelming feeling of terror that spread through me whenever I thought of it. Dean’s hand came up to my cheek, caressing my face and looking at me, no less worried than he had been before.   
“I’m okay,” I attempted to reassure that. “Yeah,” he said, doubt laced through his entire being. “So you tell me.” His hand dropped back to the steering wheel as he turned over the ignition and put the car into gear. He pointed the Impala towards Bobby’s and began to drive. I felt my eyelids grow heavy again as I fought against sleep.  
“You need your rest, you know.” I heard Dean’s chastising voice through the tired fog I found myself in. “You probably should have stayed at the hospital but since you didn’t, you need to rest. Heal up. Get back to normal.” I looked back over at him then. “What would you have done?” I asked. “You need to be a bit more specific there, chief.”  
“At the hospital. Would you have stayed? If it were you. Would you have stayed there or would you have left?”   
He sighed. “This ain’t about me.”  
“I love you,” I admitted. “But dammit if you aren’t the most stubborn man alive.” My words came out of my mouth drowsily as I closed my eyes and surrendered to sleep.  
* * *  
Dean woke me once we got to Bobby’s house, half carrying me up the steps and inside until we were at the room that I called my own. I’m sure Bobby had had plenty of visitors, hunters and otherwise, that had slept in the room but to me, it would always be mine. Dean gingerly lifted my leg, placing it on the bed with the rest of me as I laid down, hoping I’d be able to get back to sleep. His lips met my forehead as he pulled me to him, hugging me as he stood next to the bed.  
I watched as he walked towards the door and sudden shot of panic coursed through me, disturbing my desire to sleep. “You aren’t staying?” I half yelled at him, desperation evident in my raspy and damaged voice. He turned back around and looked at me, his eyes sad. “Research,” was all he gave me as means of an explanation. His hand was on the doorknob, turning it slowly when I got up the courage to ask him “Am I losing you now, too?”   
He paused, closing the door in front of him and turning to face me, his eyes glistening slightly, as though he were about to shed tears. “You’ll never lose me. But I almost lost you.” A sharp pang of guilt coursed through me, taking my breath away. I held my hand out towards him, hoping he would take the gesture for what it was; a plea for him to come back over to me. He took the few steps it took to place him back by my bedside with his hand in mine. He sat down next to me, holding my hand as his fingers caressed the small bruise where the IV Needle had been just hours ago.   
“You said you love me,” he almost whispered. I reached out and took a soft hold of his chin, turning his face towards me. “I do.”   
“You said you love me. But while you were out, it was Sam’s name you were saying.” Tears slowly overwhelmed his eyelids, tracking their way down his cheeks. I sat up, moving my hand from his chin to his cheek, wiping the tears away. “Dean, no,” I begged, struggling to find the words to explain everything to him. “I wasn’t yelling for Sam,” I told him. “I was trying to get away from him.” I explained everything that I had remembered as best as I could. Sam’s arms wrapping around me when I had thought that they were Dean’s. My confusion as I pushed Sam’s long hair behind his ears. The tortured and twisted expression on his face as I watched his skin burn.   
Dean’s face relaxed, the tension seeming to flow out and away from him. He stood up and walked over to the other side of the bed and swung himself into it next to me. He wrapped a protective arm around me and pulled me closer to him. I turned my head to face his as he brought his other hand to the side of my face, pulling me to him as he kissed my lips. I deepened the kiss, using my own tongue to beg entry into his mouth and pulling him down until he was hovering over me, his legs still off to my side.  
My arms wrapped around his waist, trying fervently to pull him even closer to me. He pulled back briefly. “Y/N,” he said. “We can’t.” I ignored his comment, bringing my lips back to his and allowing my hands to wander down to his belt, unbuckling it and tugging at his zipper. “Y/N, I mean it. You’re hurt.” My eyes locked onto his own, pleading with him. “Please,” I begged. “Love me.”   
“I do,” he admitted. “You have no idea how much I do.” His words were my undoing and I knew that nothing he could do would stop me. I needed him. His kisses became more and more passionate, clinging to me as I slowly pushed his clothing off of him and welcomed the feeling of his skin on my own. His movements were laggard and gentle, driving me mad with lust. I could feel his arousal, hard and firm against my good thigh, only increasing my desire. I was panting into his neck as he nipped and sucked at the tender and sensitive flesh at the base of my own. His hand wandered down, until his fingers were circling my clit, making me gasp at the contact.   
He pushed two fingers inside me, grazing the spot that made me moan. I moved my hand down his chest, feeling every one of his muscles contort as my fingers made their way down to his length. I grasped him firmly as I began to stroke him and gaining satisfaction as I heard him gasp. His fingers wrapped around my wrist as he pulled my hand back up, forcing me to release him as he maneuvered his way on top of me. He paused just before pushing himself inside.  
“If this hurts you,” his tone was serious, “you have to tell me.” I nodded in agreement, knowing that no amount of pain would force me to stop this. He brought his lips back to mine, pushing himself into me at a slow and steady pace. His hands were in my hair and pulling it back, exposing my face entirely as he took me. I could feel myself building, reaching towards my orgasm. His warm breath on my neck sent me over the edge, moaning and doing my best to mute my screams as I whined his name. His head flew back as he groaned, signaling his own release.   
Dean rolled over onto his side of the bed, pulling me close into his side so that the side of my face rested on his chest. I released a satisfied sigh as my eyes drooped closed, ignoring the aching in my leg and relishing in the post-coital glow. “I love you, Y/N,” I heard him whisper as he left another kiss against my forehead before he, too, drifted off to sleep.  
* * *  
He stood outside the house, his hands in his pockets and both his eyes and ears fixated on the second story window. He could see the shadows moving inside against the drapes and he could hear the distant moans coming from inside. Letting out a dramatic sigh, he dropped his eyes down to the floor, struggling to decide what to do or how to feel. But right then, he wasn’t sure of either. Sam looked back up at the window just in time to see the light inside turn off.


	4. Buried Sorrows - Part 4

The next morning came as a fresh reminder that my wounds were still very tender and extremely raw. My throat throbbed, and my thigh ached as though the large shard of metal was still piercing through it. I opened my eyes and they landed on Dean’s still sleeping face. One of his hands was tucked under his pillow while the other laid protectively around my waist. I couldn’t help but stare, a nearly delirious smile playing at my lips.   
Gently, I picked up his arm, laying back down on the bed beside him. He stirred and rolled over, facing the window yet still asleep. I began the arduous process of sitting myself up while attempting to remain as silent as possible so as not to disturb Dean. I had managed to stand myself up and change my clothes before sneaking out the door, shutting it behind me and making my way down the stairs.  
“Just what the hell do you think you’re doing?” Bobby stood at the base of the stairs looking up at me. I held my finger up to my lips, attempting to quiet him. He frowned and shook his head as he made his way up the steps and toward me. He grabbed my arm and wrapped it around his shoulders as he helped me down and into the kitchen. “You should be in bed, girl. What are you thinking?” His orneriness and general irritation were something that I had become accustomed to, especially after I had realized that more often than not, they were just a front for his concern.  
“I’m good, Bobby. I just wanted to make breakfast. Get some research in. Maybe scout out a case or two. Be useful.”  
“You want to be useful?” His tone became mocking. “Since you’ve been so useless so far. I mean, it’s not as if you and Dean just took out a vamp that had been extremely successful at shrinking the population of hunters around these parts. Nope. You’re just useless. Ya idjit.”   
“Okay, Bobby, I get it,” I laughed at him. I grabbed the crutch that was leaning against the wall and tucked it under my shoulder, using it to bare the weight that my injured leg now couldn’t.   
“Breakfast is already made. Scrambled eggs are on the stove and there’s beer in the fridge. Go. Sit,” he ordered me while pointing into the living room. If there was one sure fire way to get me to not do something, it was to order me to do it. I stood up as straight as I could and stepped towards the back door. I heard Bobby murmuring behind me as I stepped down the back-porch stairs. “Moron.”   
Walking towards the back yard, taking in the rows upon rows of old abandoned and junked cars, I gimped my way up to the Impala. I ran my hand along the roof just above the passenger side door. Looking down, I noticed what a mess I had left there. Dried blood was caked on the seat and a trail of it let from the footwell all the way to the outside panels of the car. Dean is going to lose it if he sees this, I thought to myself. Using my crutch, I pulled a hose over to the car and grabbed a sponge and bucket. Doing my best to guard my leg, I began scrubbing the blood away and realizing just how much of it I had lost.   
“Looks pretty nasty in there,” a deep and familiar voice said from behind me, freezing me in my tracks. My hands flew to the window frame of the door, pulling myself back up to standing and dropping the sponge back into the bucket.  
I turned my head to look behind the Impala, my breath catching in my already raw throat. I struggled to find the words, as I watched him shove his hands in his pockets and drop his gaze to the ground, his hair falling in front of his face as a sad smile crept across his mouth.   
“Sam?” I whispered his name, just barely louder than a breath. His eyes came up and locked onto my own. “In the flesh,” he said, his stance still rigid and uncomfortable. My vision began to blur, a large black frame centering in from my peripheral. I felt my knees give out as my eyes closed and my body gave way to gravity.  
* * *  
I woke up screaming; haunted by visions of Sam’s burning face, embers pushing their way out of his face from where his cheeks used to be as his mouth froze in a permanent scream and flames consumed him from the inside out. Suddenly, there were hands on either side of my face, smoothing my hair back behind my ears while gently calming me and whispering “Shhh.” My legs that had been thrashing as they kicked at the comforter stilled and I managed to open my eyes.  
“It’s okay, Y/N,” he said as I stared into Dean’s endlessly green eyes. My heart felt as though it were beating out of my chest and my breathing was verging on the edge of hyperventilation. His hands kept caressing my head as he sat down next to me and planted a kiss on my forehead. “Dean,” I got out, my voice even more gravelly than it had been.  
“Don’t talk, sweetheart. Your throat was already all jacked up. Please, just rest.” His eyes begged me to, for once, listen. I moved my hands to my mouth, mimicking drinking from a glass. “You want some water?” I nodded. He quickly got up and ran down the stairs, returning only moments later with a glass of tepid water. I sipped it slowly, testing my boundaries. I set the glass down on the end table and pushed myself until I was sitting straight up. Taking Dean’s hands in mine, I looked up into his contemplative eyes and mouthed the word “Sam.”   
Dean hung his head at that. His pensive gaze now turning to hurt and hesitant. “He’s downstairs,” he explained. “With Bobby.” He swallowed dramatically as his jaw clenched and his hands drew into fists in the blanket. “I can call him up if you want-” I placed my hand on his cheek and pulled his face towards me as I shook my head violently. I pulled him closer to me as I brought my lips gently to his and rested my forehead against his own. At that moment, all I wanted to do was take Dean’s hand and run, but the look in his eyes told me that that option was off the table.   
“He wants to talk to you, Y/N.” Dean’s words sent a cold shiver down my back and flashes of Sam on fire ran through my mind. “It’s really him. He’s back.” His tone was excited but withdrawn. As if he were holding so much back. He chuckled. “That’s what we wanted to begin with, right? He’s back. Time for you two to ride off into the sunset.” I shook my head again, feeling my eyebrows furrow as I attempted to speak but could only make guttural sounds.  
“Bobby and I have a hunt up north we’re going to take,” he said, standing up and detaching himself from me with each passing second. “Give you guys some time.” His hands were in his pockets and he was backing out of the room, backing away from me, and refusing to even meet my eyes. “Dean, no,” I said, raggedly. But it was too late. His hand was on the doorknob, pulling it towards himself and stepping into the doorway. He looked back at me momentarily. His eyes held such sorrow and for just a moment, I could see his heart break.   
A shadow walked up towards him and I heard Sam’s voice. “She okay?” he asked.  
“Yeah,” Dean answered, his hand landing on his brother’s shoulder. “She’s all yours.”  
My eyes were stuck on the doorway as I watched Dean’s back retreating. I knew that Sam had walked into the room. I could even feel him as he took a seat at the foot of the bed. My head was spinning. Did Dean really just leave? Did he really just give up and hand me over to Sam as if I were his brother’s toy that he had only been borrowing? My heart raced and tears threatened at my eyelids as I blinked them back, bringing my gaze back to the bed. Sam’s eyes bore into my own, a focused yet vacant look on his face.  
“How are you?” he asked simply. I nodded my head, attempting to clear my throat without sending pain through it. “I’m fine,” I nearly whispered. “How are you here?” I managed to force the words out of my mouth, my breath hitching as I did so. He looked me dead in the eye, his face stern and unyielding. “I don’t know.” His words were simple and uncalculated. There was no emotion coming through them.   
“When did you get out of the cage?”   
He looked up at the ceiling, breaking our eye contact, as if he were thinking his answer through. “About ten months I guess.”   
My jaw dropped and all I could feel was anger. Rage emanated off of me in waves, so much so that I feared it might be visible. “You’re telling me that you’ve been back for the better part of a year and you just now decided to let us know?” I was indignant. Downright fuming.  
“I was busy,” he said, brushing the topic off. I chuckled. “That’s just great. You put your brother through absolute hell, not to mention me, but that’s okay,” my words were sarcastic and sharp. “You were busy.”   
I set both of my feet on the ground and pushed myself up so that I was standing, unwilling to be too near to him. I rang my hands together, trying desperately to get a handle on the situation.  
“You’re here,” he broke into my thoughts. “But your car isn’t. Where’s the Challenger?”   
I narrowed my eyes at him, daring him to push me farther. “I got rid of it.” There was nothing in his expression to give him away. No telling flicker of his brow. No mist in his eyes or twinge in his lips. Not even any tension in his jaw. He gave an almost imperceptible nod as if he was just accepting it at face value. “I couldn’t look at it anymore,” I explained. “It reminded me too much of you. Of us.” My voice grew weaker then, remembering the sheer joy that had been on his face when he handed me the keys.  
“Makes sense,” was his only response.  
I sighed, running my hands through my hair and glancing back at the doorway and hoping that I would see Dean come back through it. Sam stood back up and walked the short distance over to me. He put his hand on my shoulder, letting his hand slowly slide down my arm until he was holding my hand.  
“Y/N,” he began. “I need your help.” I gasped, trying to keep myself from laughing. “You must be joking,” I accused him. “Look at me, Sam! I just got out of the hospital and seeing you has me completely thrown off balance. I’m not in any shape to help anyone.”   
“Least of all me,” he finished, cocking his head to the side and almost looking through me. I stared at him, hesitant to answer him. I turned around and headed for the door, hoping that since I hadn’t heard the roar of the Impala’s engine, Dean would still be downstairs. “I know you and Dean are together now.” He said from behind me. “I know you aren’t in love with me anymore. And that’s fine. That doesn’t matter. There are bigger things at play here.” I turned around to look in his eyes but felt nothing. Nothing but the abandonment he had put me through and the betrayal I had felt. Which just seemed to intensify upon hearing how long he’d been back without ever once having an inkling to reach out to me.  
“It doesn’t matter?” I asked him, clearly wounded. His brow furrowed as he looked down towards my feet, showing a slight amount of shame for the first time since he had come back. “It matters,” he muttered. “Just not as much as other things.”   
“Did Dean tell you about us?” His eyes snapped back up at me, puzzled. “No. He didn’t need to. I already knew.” I couldn’t hide my surprise as I asked him how that was possible.  
“I saw you two. Coming back from the hospital. He was always in love with you. Now though,” he hesitated. “You’re in love with him, too.” He put his warm palm on my cheek and stared at me intently. He bent down and lowered his lips to mine, but I couldn’t find it in me to respond. I pulled myself back and away from him, turning back around and facing the wall.   
“I always told you this would happen,” he laughed from behind me. I spun to look at him, my jaw gaping open and my eyes bursting from their sockets in shock. “You told me that what would happen, hmm? That you’d jump willingly into hell? That you’d abandon me completely without even so much as a goodbye?” I was fully enraged and the pain that I knew would come back at full force now was just a distant memory.  
He looked back up at me and sighed with a smile. “Whatever you say, Y/N. Are you going to help me with this case or not?” I looked at him, my face stern and hardened. “Not.” He nodded his head robotically and crossed his arms on his chest. I turned, opening the door and making my way down the stairs.   
“Dean?” I yelled, hoping that he would still be here. That he hadn’t left yet. I caught Bobby’s eye in the kitchen where he stood drying a coffee mug. I looked at him, trying my hardest not to panic and to keep my head level. He grabbed my crutch and pushed it out towards me. I shook my head, knowing that it would only slow me down and right now, I needed to be able to move. “Where’s Dean?” He put the crutch back against the counter and motioned his head out the back door towards the junkyard.   
It had been raining all night and I knew that the gravel driveway and the muddy car lot would be slick, but I needed to find him. I needed to see him. I ran for the door like my life depended on it, slamming the screen open and jumping down the stairs two at a time as I screamed Dean’s name at the top of my lungs. I ran past the Impala, checking in the windows to make sure he wasn’t inside. There were stacks of junked cars and rows upon rows of beaten down shells of automobiles. I made it back to the garage before my voice began to give out and give way to the damage that I’d done to it. My legs were beginning to tremble as I walked around to the back of the building. Tears stained my cheeks and my breathing trembled as if I were a five-year-old. The rain pelted down all around me, soaking my already dripping hair and plastering it to my skin.  
I looked up to see Dean leaning against a car, an unopened beer in one hand as he stroked his face with the other. I tried to yell for him. To get his attention as I kept sauntering towards him. My chest was being wracked with sobs, shaking me to my core. I was completely overwhelmed but all I could focus on was getting to Dean. He turned his head, finally making eye contact with me as my knees gave way and I knelt in the sopping wet mud. He hung his head before walking over to me and crouching down to my level, placing his hands on my upper arms and lifting me back up to my knees.  
“Y/N,” he almost whispered. “You should go back inside. He’s waiting for you.” His voice was quiet and sad. And above all, unconvincing. I shook my head at him, letting him know that I didn’t care. “Hey,” he chuckled with a somber smile. “The love of your life’s in there waiting for you. Don’t want to keep him waiting.”   
“Dean,” I said, noting the jolt of pain that seemed to go through him when I spoke. I put my hands on his face, holding his gaze to my own. “The love of my life? He isn’t in there,” I swallowed deeply. “He’s right here. He’s you.” His hand came up to my face, gently pushing my drenched hair out of my face.   
His eyes met mine again as he clenched his jaw. “No.”   
“What do you mean?” I asked him, my voice cracking and desperation evident in my words.  
“No, Y/N. We aren’t doing this.” I could feel my heart falling and shattering within my chest as his words penetrated it. “He’s my brother and he loves you. I can’t do this to him.” I looked up at him, tears still trailing down my cheeks and mixing with the raindrops.   
My eyes met his as I begged and pleaded with him silently to take his words back. His expression gave nothing away. His eyes seemed hollow and withdrawn and the smile that had brought me such happiness and frivolity was now replaced with a stern set line. “You’re serious,” I observed, stating what was apparently already obvious.  
“I’d die for the kid,” he explained, his eyebrows furrowed. “I have. I can’t take his girl. It would kill him.”   
“Are you sure? Because from the discussion I just had with him, he couldn’t care less.” My heartbreak was beginning to give way to anger as I slowly began to realize that I was going to be the only one of us fighting. Dean said nothing, just remained silent as he stared at me. “He already knows about us, Dean! He told me he knew! He wasn’t crushed, heartbroken or anything. How can you be so eager to give up on this?” I rose to my feet, shoving his hands away from my face. Ignoring the pain searing through my thigh, I turned away from him, taking deep breaths as I took a step back.   
“It’s only been a few weeks, Y/N,” he began. His old cocky tone returning, full of arrogance and narcissism. “Not really a relationship if you think about it. Just an extended good time.”  
I turned back and glared at him, my eyes narrowed and my hands balling into fists. “You can try your self-assured destruction another time, Dean. I know you cared. I know it was more than that. If you’re giving up, that’s on you.” I walked back towards the house, emanating anger and rage as I threw open the screen door and barreled into the kitchen where Bobby still stood.   
“I take it that didn’t go well,” he said as he rested his hands on my shoulders and attempted to look into my eyes.   
“I need to get out of here.” He nodded as if that was exactly what he expected to come next. Bobby walked over to the key hook on the wall next to the back door and grabbed a simple silver key. I held my hand out as he dropped the key into my palm. “Bobby, what is this?”  
“Did you really think he’d let you just throw that car away? Leave it for some scumbag?” My confused expression must have been answer enough. “He picked the keys you threw out the window up before you guys even left town. Called me to go pick it up the second you passed out. He may be acting like a damn fool right now, but that boy loves you.” I rolled my eyes in response.   
“Bobby, I have to leave. I can’t stay. Not here. Not with them. Either of them.” I began to ramble. My words disjointed and nonsensical. “I know, kid. I know. Just call in every now and then, huh? Give an old man some peace of mind?”  
“Of course,” I said, stemming the flow of my tears long enough to give him a sad smile as I walked towards him. He wrapped his arms around me, enveloping me in a big teddy bear hug. “It’ll all work out. You’ll see.” He let go of me, returning to the dishes in his sink. “Car’s parked at the end of the first row up front.” I smiled sadly back at him as I ascended the steps, hoping that Sam would have vacated my room.   
I must have run into some luck because when I opened the door, he wasn’t there. I grabbed my duffel and threw what little clothes I had unpacked into it along with the toothbrush and toiletries from the bathroom. Once I was sure that I had everything that I needed, I threw the bag over my shoulder and headed back downstairs. I could hear muffled voices as I made my way through the hallway just outside of the kitchen.   
“What are you thinking, boy? You’re just going to let that girl leave because you’re too scared? Too full of guilt? You idjit!” Bobby was yelling at who I could only assume was Dean. I made my way past them trying to ignore the pleas tumbling out of Dean’s mouth. “Please Bobby,” I scrunched my eyes shut, attempting to block out their conversation. “Don’t you yell at me now, too. He loves her. And she loved him. Probably still does. I can’t come between that.” I couldn’t stand to hear any more. I pushed the front door open, intentionally slamming it behind me as I made a run for my car. I held the keys tightly in my hand as I pushed my fist against my thigh hoping to kill the pain spreading through it.   
I unlocked the driver’s side door and sat down in the seat, quickly pulling the door closed behind me. I took a deep breath, realizing that my tears had ebbed and that just maybe I was going to survive this. I looked back at the house and saw Dean’s face, his hair still soaking wet, looking out at me from the front window. He still had that same hollow look in his eyes as I turned the engine over and put the car into gear. Sam stood in the window just next to his brother, staring at me, equally as disinterested.   
Pulling out of the driveway, I sighed, attempting to release the tension that had built up inside of me. With nowhere to really go, I drove without a destination. My only purpose was to keep on driving and put as much distance between myself and the Winchesters as possible   
* * *  
Three Months Later  
I had been taking job after job. Killing whatever monster I came across and saving as many people as I could without actually being forced to interact with too many of them. Witches, demons, shifters, ghosts, even a tulpa. And slowly, I began to feel at ease again. My heart didn’t lurch as violently as it had initially whenever Dean’s name came up and I no longer felt sick to my stomach at the mention of Sam. Losing myself in the job seemed to be just the right kind of therapy for me. That is, until Atlanta.  
Bobby had called me in on a case that he had said nobody else would be able to make it to in time. A family had purchased some land just outside of the Atlanta airport and built their new home on it. They moved into it within the last few months. Within weeks, their oldest son, Alec, had gone missing. In the days that passed, they had heard things. Whispers seeming to come out of the walls. Cold spots in places that should have been warm.   
After some digging, I found that the property had originally been owned in the 1920’s by John Squire. He had an orchard on the property. When his daughter, Anna, had fallen in love and promised to marry a man of far lower status than their own, Mr. Squire forbid Anna to see the man again. Going so far as to confine her to the grounds. Not too long after, Anna hung herself in the orchard. Her father, being the upstanding man that he was, opted to bury her body under the tree where she had died. Shortly after, the Squire family left, bulldozing the orchard and leaving Anna’s body in an unmarked and unidentifiable grave.   
That night, I decided to go looking for the remains to end the new residents’ torment once and for all. And that was when I saw them. Both of them. Sam and Dean. They were canvasing the property. Looking for signs of a grave just as I was. Dean’s head jolted, turning to face me as our eyes met for the first time in months and I suddenly lost my breath. Maybe I wasn’t as over him as I had thought I was.  
“Y/N?” I heard him call out to me. His voice sent shivers down my spine. I turned from them, continuing my search for Anna’s burial grounds instead. Dean was running towards me now and I could hear him calling my name repeatedly. I took a deep breath and attempted to prepare myself for the pain I would soon endure.  
I stopped walking and looked him in the eye. “Dean,” was all I gave him as a greeting. His arm was extended towards me as if he were about to caress my face but thought better of it. “Where have you been?” he asked me. I shrugged. “Around? I’ve been working.”   
“I’ve called. I’ve left you messages.” He seemed so frazzled; a version of him I was definitely not used to seeing.  
“I got rid of my old number. Needed to start fresh.” I stared at him, pointedly, knowing my words hadn’t missed their target. I shook my head and looked down at the ground. “Look, if we’re both here, we might as well spend our time looking for the gravesite. Speed up the search party, yeah?” He nodded his ascent.  
It didn’t take us long to find, salt, and burn the bones. Once the job was done, I headed back into the new family’s house to grab my gear. They had vacated when I had shown up and asked for some time to get everything sorted out for them. I had found that most people, when confronted with an impossible situation, were very willing to accept the truth about the monsters under their bed and the things that go bump in the night.  
I walked up the steps, opening the door and down the hall to where my bags were at. I could feel Dean’s footsteps behind me, following me around wordlessly and still not giving anything away. When I turned and headed back for the door and my escape, he broke the silence.  
“I should never have let you leave. Or said what I did. I was trying-”  
I cut him off. “You chose this, remember?” I asked him, angry and desperate to get him to see what his decision had put me through. Put us through.  
“Yeah, I remember,” he bit back at me sourly.  
“Well now you have to live with that. Your decision. Not mine. I wasn’t asked for my input.” I emphasized my words, making sure he knew not only how hurt I had been, but how this entire situation was made possible by him. “You just left me there. And now, I’m leaving you.”   
I walked out the front door, never making eye contact with him as I did. He had given up on us. He had decided that we weren’t worth it. That I wasn’t worth it. Now, three months later, he wanted my love and forgiveness. He had lost that plausibility when he had completely broken me.   
My Challenger sat in the driveway, promising speed and a quick escape. I unlocked the door and sat in the driver’s seat, hesitating before turning the ignition. I wanted to look up into the window, knowing he’d be there watching me like he had so many times. But I knew that if I saw him there, I wouldn’t be strong enough to back out of the driveway and leave. I put the car in reverse, backed out and started driving.   
I made it about two miles before my tears overwhelmed me and I had to pull over on the side of the road. My hands were shaking. I couldn’t be sure if it was from rage, heartbreak, regret, or one of the hundreds of other emotions that were running through me.   
Three months. It had been three months since I’d seen him and yet I still turned to mush within seconds. Get it together, I told myself. I rubbed the last of my tears away, taking a deep breath and willing myself to calm down. And then I saw the all too familiar headlights pull up behind me and abruptly click off, leaving the silhouette of the Impala in my rearview.  
The driver’s side door flew open as Dean’s lanky legs stepped out. I watched him walk towards me, determined and quick. When he made it to my window, I was bent forward with my head in my hands, leaning against the steering wheel.  
There was his tell-tale tap at the window as his other hand moved to unlatch the door, opening it up. He knelt down, bringing his head level with mine as he put his hand on my shoulder. It felt so warm and inviting. So safe. I wanted desperately to melt into him. To forget the past three months and especially to forget our last conversation at Bobby’s. But there were words that were spoken and actions that neither of us could take back.   
A thought occurred to me as I laid back in my seat, refusing to remove my hands from the steering wheel. “Where’s Sam?” I asked, unsure as to why the passenger seat in the car parked behind me remained vacant.   
Dean sighed, lowering his head. “Sam,” he repeated. “That’s complicated.” I laughed as I realized that that one word, complicated, was the perfect descriptor for our entire lives. For the entire situation that we had managed to find ourselves in.   
“Sam’s not who he used to be, Y/N.” Dean looked at me with his eyes narrowed, as if he wasn’t sure what reaction I would be giving him. His answer confused me. For the first time since I had gotten in my car and driven away, I looked him in the eyes. His face softened as he moved his hand from my shoulder to my cheek. I leaned my face into his palm, enjoying the familiar and satisfying caress without pause. I let out a breath and closed my eyes as I raised my hand up to his, holding it closer to me.   
“Y/N,” he moaned as he leaned in closer to me. As I opened my eyes, I saw him leaning his face in towards me, his lips pursed and his eyes beginning to flutter shut. My breath caught in my chest as I allowed his lips to connect with my own, relishing the moment. Seconds passed before my brain caught up with what was happening. Slowly, I placed my hand on his chest, pushing him back and whispering “No,” just as our lips disconnected.  
“I know,” he said, too quickly. “It’s still Sam, right? I get it.”  
“No, Dean. You don’t get it.” I hung my head, defeated. I had made the mistake of thinking that Dean understood. That somehow, given the time we’d spent apart, he had begun to realize that my feelings for him were real. That he wasn’t just a band aid for the hole Sam had left in me. Or that that hole had slowly over time healed. Of course, I still had feelings for Sam. A part of me always would. But when it came to my heart, Dean owned it. It was his to do with as he saw fit. And whether he knew it or not, over the last three months, he had been slowly crushing it.  
“He’s not Sam anymore, Y/N. He’s different now. The cage. Lucifer. He didn’t come back whole.” Dean’s method of explaining the situation did nothing to clue me in on to what was happening. I looked at him confused. “What do you mean?” He hung his head again, dropping his hand from my cheek and ruffling his hair. “His soul didn’t make the trip back. We don’t even know how he made the trip topside, but he did. He’s been back. Almost as long as we thought he was gone.”   
My eyes widened and I felt a small twinge in my chest. “He’s been back here that long?” My words sounded breathless. Dean only nodded in response. “He doesn’t have his soul. We’re doing everything we can to bring it back. To bring the real him back. But we don’t have any real answers right now. I’m sorry, Y/N. I’m so damn sorry. But I’m going to get him back for you.”  
“Damnit Dean!” My emotions got the better of me as I punched the dashboard, rage coursing through my veins. “I don’t want him! I don’t love him anymore! How can you not have accepted that by now? By all means get him back, but don’t do it as some favor to me. I told you that you were who I wanted. That you are who I want. That night when you turned your back on me, remember?” His sad eyes locked with mine again as he nodded his ascent.   
I placed my hands on his cheeks. “You’re infuriating, and stubborn, and self-destructive. But I love you, Dean. I’m in love with you. Not Sam. You.” I pressed my lips to his, hard and quick. I released his face and reached for the ignition. Starting the engine up, I looked back up at him, unable to read his expression as he seemed to be letting my words sink in.   
“Goodbye, Dean,” I said quietly. Every part of me wanted to stay. I wanted to wrap myself around him and feel his arms around me. But I feared that his self-depreciating ways would prevent that from ever happening again. I reached for my seat belt but when I had just barely wrapped my hand around the fabric, Dean’s hand wrapped gently around mine. “No.”  
“What do you mean, no” I asked, taken aback.   
“I mean no.” He took a hold of my hand, pulling me out of the car and laying his arms around my waist, he pressed his lips back to mine. His scent mingled in my nose as my surprise gave way to rapture. His lips were on mine again. His hands were in my hair pulling me closer to him, unwilling to let me pull away.   
“Dean,” I mumbled against his lips. “What-” His lips pressed desperately against mine cut me off.   
“No,” he said again. “I let you walk away from me too many times already. I’ll never make that mistake again.” He crushed his lips back to mine, enveloping me completely as I began to lose myself in him.   
I felt his arms begin to slacken as he slowly released me and ended the passionate kiss. His eyes were still locked on mine as he pushed my hair back and behind my ears. “I love you, too, you know.” His tone was sincere, and he sounded as if he might break.  
I smiled in return. “I know,” I replied condescendingly. His smile sent shivers up my spine. “Bobby told me before you did.” His smile widened. “Yeah,” he laughed. “That old man. Always stealing my thunder.”  
I wrapped my arms around his neck and leaned up to give him a small peck on the lips. “Does that mean you’re done pushing me away now?” He nodded emphatically, pulling me into a tight and warm hug.   
“So,” I began. “Sam doesn’t have a soul.”   
“Yeah. As best we can tell, it’s still in the cage.”   
“Well, looks like we have a lot of work to do,” I smiled up at him as he leaned down, kissing me once again. “All in due time. I believe we have some making up to do first.” His lips wandered down to my neck as he softly sucked and nipped at my skin. I moaned, giving into him as he laid me back across the long bench seat of the Challenger.


End file.
